Lucid Dreaming
by pyxie
Summary: Lucidity is a strange sensation and Dean hates it, but at least it leads him to someone who can help out. Dean/Cas College AU
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: As promised, this is a new story to help me get off of my writer's block. And to keep me distracted from Calc 3. Make it stop. Please. I just...wanna be done with math. HENCE THIS! Yes! That's why I just keep writing. -Pyxie xx_

* * *

Dean opens his eyes and looks around. He isn't anywhere he's ever been before, but it also isn't unfamiliar. The surreal shake of existence around him proves that he can't be anywhere corporeal. Everything has a bluish tint to it, even the moon, even the sun. The sky is a deep orange, interspersed with bright green cumulus clouds. The air is stagnant and smells of raspberries. The ground is white and barren.

I'm dreaming, he realises. Everything shifts to the side, yet he stays still. The sky turns to a light purple colour and the clouds vanish. The moon grows a Cheshire face and beams down at Dean.

In a voice deep as the abyss itself, the Moon speaks. "You should run from the bananas, padawan. Don't think too hard about the blood oranges."

Dean looks at the Moon in shock. "But I already gave them milk!" He shouts back.

"Not enough coffee concentration!" The Moon booms. The world shakes the outburst. "You must bring them to him with the blues!"

_Beep__!_

"Why not green?"

"They must be the blue eyes, starverse!" The Moon starts to fade from the sky.

_Beep!_

"Remember, Simba! Find him and he will set you free!"

_Beep!_

The Sun grows brighter and brighter with every beep.

"Shut up, Sol! I'm listening to Luna!"

_Beep!_

In a voice as airy and lovely as choir of angels, Sol speaks. "Wake up, Dean. Open your eyes."

Dean shoots up in bed and promptly falls out of it. His heart is racing, his alarm is loud and blaring, his room is flooded with bright light. He presses hand over his chest to calm his nerves at the same time Sam walks into his room and slams a hand down on his alarm clock.

"What the hell, Dean?" At first, Sam is mad, but upon inspection of his brother, the anger fades. "Are you okay? Did you have another one of those dreams?"

Dean, not quite ready to speak yet, nods in affirmation. He's heaving out heavy breaths, feeling as though he's run three marathons in a row. Sam clenches his jaw and goes over Dean's bedside table to turn on the music. Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You comes on and instantly, he's relaxed again.

"Thanks, little brother."

"That's what I'm hear for." Sam sits on the floor next to Dean. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I should be fine. It's just...the Moon yelled at me." Dean drops his face into his hands and rubs at his eyes to wake himself up.

Sam cocks his head to the side. "That's weird, usually it's a plant. Don't forget to write it all down." He stands up and prepares to leave. "You should find someone to talk to."

"I have you,"

"I mean...not me...someone-"

"No." Dean interrupts. "I don't need a shrink and I sure as hell don't want to pay someone to listen to my weird ass dreams."

"Lucid dreaming should not occur as often as it does with you."

"This whole situation shouldn't occur at all." Dean stands up, feeling rather relaxed now that he knows that the Moon isn't going to try to kill him. He runs a hand down his face and sighs. "Look, I know jack shit about lucid dreaming. I just know that I'm supposed to be more in control than I am."

"Or maybe what you're experiencing is akin to sleep paralysis."

Dean turns to stare at his brother and narrows his eyes. "And you wanna be a lawyer?" He jokes.

"Shut up, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean winks. "Go get ready for school. We have to go soon."

"We would've had more time if you hadn't had another weird dream." Sam slips out of Dean's room and claims the bathroom.

"You're a weird dream!" And even though Sam says nothing and even though Sam is in a different room completely, Dean can still feel the bitchface that he's given. He sighs and goes to his closet to get ready for class.

* * *

"You know...you should just start a club." Jo, Dean's kind-of-sister-that-he-never-asked-for, states as she pulls her notebook out for Philosophy 154. "I know people who also deal with weird dreams."

"Yeah, but like this?" Dean is getting really fed up with the 'you need a shrink' and the 'you need to talk to people who understand' and 'maybe you aren't as okay as you think you are'. He just wants to complain to his brother and to his best friend. And any more than than won't help his situation.

"Just start a damn club." After that, she falls silent when their professor walks in.

Every morning that Dean has this class, it is also accompanied by an existential crisis. Does he really exist? How does the law play into his existence? What is the meaning of life? What comes after this corporeal life? Nothing? Something?

"As you know, Sol is going to engulf our entire solar system one day." Dean's head perks up and he stops writing. "It's said that he's gentle and compassionate, but he is of nature and thus a destructive force. All of this just really depends on your take of the solar systems and how old you think the Universe really is. But, really, we all should just accept that it's a few billion years old. And that evolution is a thing. Not to sound close-minded, but there are something that should be undisputed facts. Like...equal rights." The professor runs her fingers through her hair.

"Hey, Doc?" Dean pipes up. "You called the sun Sol?"

"I did. You want to know why?" Dean nods. "Because that's his name. Simply put. And it's more fun so say." She seems ready to drop the subject, but Dean isn't.

"I mean, why today? You've never called him Sol before." Dean is ready to explode. He's had too many crazy dreams to not think that there's a sign in all of it. "So why _today_ of all days that you could have started calling him Sol. Why not...I dunno a week ago? Or next Thursday? Or you could have used Soleil which would make more sense. But instead you used just Sol. I don't understand why you had to use that word now of all times. I don't-"

"Mr. Winchester." Doctor Mills snaps. "Please. This class is not about my choice of words, it's about your place in this Universe, in this starverse." Dean's eyes are so comically wide that she actually drops her angry tone to sound more concerned. "Is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

The room turns to look at Dean and suddenly he feels sheepish. "No. No, I...I'll be okay." Doctor Mills seems unconvinced, but nods anyways.

"Okay, everybody." She continues on with her lecture.

Jo looks at Dean in shock. "Dean, what the hell was that?" She whispers just loud enough for Dean to hear her. "You're starting to go crazy."

Dean ignores her and goes back to writing in his notebook. Maybe he would open a club. Maybe talking to other people who have also had lucid dreams would help him to understand just what is happening to him. Or...perhaps it's just a part of him and how his brain is wired. Which would mean that he would just have to put up with it for the rest of his life.

* * *

The rest of his classes go by in a haze, and before he knows it, it's already 1:30. No better time to want to start a club than now. He heads down to the Student Programs Center in the middle of his University, all with the intention of starting this damn club. But who would join it? Would people even want to join it? His entire life is a question, it's all about figuring out which question is worth answering. Or, perhaps, if all of them are worth answering.

He stands at the front desk of Student Programs and a girl with fiery hair looks up at him. "Good afternoon. What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, I uh…" Dean stammers a moment. "I wanted to start a club."

She grins. The nametag she's wearing reads 'Charlie'. "Do you already have members, or are you just getting started?"

"Just getting started." Dean huffs out a nervous laugh. "I'm Dean Winchester, 3rd years. But I already know one other member. Her name is Jo Harvelle, 2nd year student."

Charlie grins. "I know her. She's a nice girl."

Dean scoffs. "Apparently you don't know her well enough."

"Perhaps one day I will." Charlie fiddles around on the computer in front of her. "Alright. So what is this club going to be called."

_Shit_. Dean hadn't even thought of a name. He works his mind for a moment for something interesting, but nothing really comes up. "Lucid Dreaming."

A voice behind him gasps. Dean turns around and finds himself face-to-face with the bluest eyes he's ever seen before in his life.

_Find the blues_. The Moon's echo rings through his mind and everything seems to freeze. No fucking way is this happening right now.

Blue Eyes moves past Dean and directs his attention to Charlie. "I want to join this club too. And my cousin, Gabriel Milton, will also be joining."

Charlie blinks up at both of them. This is a weird situation she's found herself in. "I'm joining too, just so you know. That sounds super cool. And, look at that, Dean, you are almost an official club. I assume you're the President. You need to get signatures from your other four members and I'll sign it too. What time are you thinking of doing this?"

"Tuesdays 1:30 to 3." Dean snaps out of his daze, hardly hearing most of what Charlie had said.

"Make it Thursdays. That's a better day." Blue Eyes looks at Dean, his eyes steely and intense. And Dean can't find it in himself to argue for Tuesdays. Thursdays will work just as well.

Charlie looks at Dean for affirmation and slowly, he nods. "Okay. Choose an advisor and a room and you are just about set." She prints out a sheet of paper and signs on the third line that reads '1st Member'.

Right before Dean can take it, Blue Eyes takes it first and signs his name under 2nd Member. Suddenly, he's sheepish. "My apologies. I've been told that I'm abrasive. It's just that I came here to begin the same club."

Dean blinks. "Be my Vice President." It's instant. And for whatever reason, he isn't mad at this weirdo who all but snapped at him and snatched his roster from him.

Blue Eyes gives Dean a weird look and slowly nods. "Okay." He erases his name from 2nd Member and signs instead under Vice President. "I'll see you Thursday." He turns to leave, but Dean catches his arm.

"Sorry." They stare at each other in shock. Silence ensues and Charlie clears her throat. Dean snaps out of it and smiles sheepishly. "I didn't catch your name."

"Castiel Novak. Nice to make your acquaintance, Dean Winchester." And carefully, Castiel pulls his arm out of Dean's hand and leaves the Student Programs Center.

"That was an uncomfortable situation. Love at first sight?" Charlie winks at Dean and he barely shakes his head. "Well, he looks...dreamy."

Dean looks at her, head tilted to the side. "Right. Well. Thursday, Charlie."

"I'll be there." She grins up at him.

Dean leaves student programs and heads off to the high school to go pick up his brother. For the rest of the evening, those blue eyes haunt him, and he can only imagine what his dreams are going to be like that night.

* * *

_A/N: So far, I like this one. It's gonna stay pretty humorous. Nothing too dramatic is going to happen. No one's gonna die. I know that happens in just about everything I write, but I mean it this time. I mean...they're like...21. I can't just kill them off. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you! -Pyxie xx_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Alright, everybody. So I just realised that this is my first full on AU. Like, Cas isn't an angel, Dean isn't a hunter. No one has any demon deals looming over their heads. It's kind of weird… So yeah, alright, here's chapter 2. -Pyxie xx_

* * *

"You started a what?" Sam dropped his fork and stared at his older brother. "On whose recommendation?"

"A Lucid Dreaming Club. Jesus, Sam. Don't you listen?" Dean is annoyed, tired, and sick of repeating himself.

"Yeah, but...whoa. Who knew that Jo could get you to do anything?"

"Shut up, bitch. And eat your dinner." Dean stands from the table and clears his plate. He's starting to think that telling his brother was a bad idea. If he had just kept it to himself, then there wouldn't be this, 'oh, you succumbed to Jo?' and 'oh, Dean, I know you have the hots for her' and other shit like that.

"I'm just saying, Dean, that if you like her, you should just ask her out." And there it is. The words that Dean really didn't want to hear.

He steps out of the kitchen and gives his brother a glare. "Alright, Sammy, I want you to listen good. I do _not_ have the hots for Jo. She's like the little sister I've never wanted and besides I've got-" Dean cuts himself off and looks at his brother in shock. Whose name was he going to say? Castiel? _Find the blues_. Dean takes a step back.

Sam's smile grows. "Ooh, you've found a girl? It's about time. You're rounding your third year of college."

Dean's face grows warm and he shakes his head. "Cas is not _my girl_." Hell, he isn't even a girl. "Not a word about this. Or I'll start talking about Jess." And that shuts Sam up. Or at least it does for the time being. "Clean up a bit before you go to bed, will ya?"

Sam nods and Dean goes down the hall to his bedroom. He flops down on his bed and stares at his ceiling, wondering what Thursday's first meeting would bring. Probably more blue eyes and conversations of weird dreams.

And slowly, Dean falls asleep.

Dean moves his hand from the table and the warmth from his skin leaves a dark green impression. Slowly, flower petals rise up from the impression and begin their ascent in the path of a double helix.

_Another lucid dream_.

He forces himself to realise what's happening and he becomes fully cognizant of his surroundings and of his body, of his voice, of his breathing, of his bodily functions. Experimentally, he raises a hand and beckons the flower petals to him.

_Go away_. And they do.

The table is gone. Dean looks around. No moon, no sun, no plants.

"Hello there, you sexy chickadee." A voice, warm and genuine sounds from behind him and Dean looks down. Right behind him, there's a fox with bright blue eyes.

"No, why are your eyes blue?" Dean demands. The fox tilts its head to the side as if it doesn't understand. Or as if he thinks that Dean should understand.

"As a blatant reminder, of course. How else could we not om nom nom nom blah blah blergh eergh agh sploosh."

Dean's eyes grow wide and he takes a step away from the fox. The fox stay where it is and Dean flies upwards. The sky becomes the ground, the ground becomes the sky, and the sea inverts itself. Fish are flying, starfish are walking on the sunshine. The moon appears.

"Never send a fox to do a moon's job." The moon, in that same demanding and deep voice, speaks. The face that manifests this time is not unlike a nursery rhyme moonface. "Anyways, I am informing you that you have found the blues, my pliable man matter."

"Can't you just call me Dean?" Dean mutters.

"No!" The world shakes. _Crap, I pissed it off again_. "I am allowed to call you whatever I want, curly fries and hair dressers. Don't be such a pelican."

Dean starts falling through the sky, he grabs onto the light of the sun to stay up. "Why is Castiel so important?"

"All in good time, young Jedi. Rest easy."

The Sun dwarfs the moon in its light and Dean flinches back. "Dean. I know it's way before the time you wish to awake, but I think the timing is perfect." The sun's voice is warm and sweet. Dean shakes his head and tries to keep sleeping. "Yes, baby. Remember, Angels are watching over you."

Dean sits up in bed quickly. "Mom?" He looks around his dark room. For a moment, the sun's golden glow had stuck with him in his early moments of wakefulness and it looked like blonde hair. He falls back on the bed and presses his fists into his eyes. Of course it wasn't his mom. It couldn't have been.

* * *

Thursday arrived without much incident. Dean had found a room and e-mailed every member on the list. And at 1:30, he steps through the door of a small auditorium. He's surprised he even managed to get this room at this time, all things considered.

Sitting on the stage, his blue eyes fixed on Dean, is Castiel. And Dean swears he's never seen anyone more perfect. Blue is sitting dwarfed in a tan overcoat, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his hair wind tousled and perfect. Dean forgets how to walk and he stands at the top of the stairs, staring at Castiel in wonder.

"Hello, Dean." Cas breaks the trance and Dean walks down the stairs and sits next to Cas on the stage.

"Hey, Cas. How's it goin'?"

Castiel narrows his eyes and looks over Dean with a measured scrutiny that Dean doesn't quite understand. "It is going well."

An awkward pause ensues. Dean considers twiddling his thumbs, but thinks better of it. "I was thinking."

"Yes."

Dean blinks. "I haven't asked anything yet?" Cas doesn't answer this time. "I was thinking that instead of Vice President, you could be my Co-President guy dude." He looks over the other's face, eyes coming to rest on those intense blues.

Slowly, Castiel nods. "Yes."

They remain staring at each other, trying to unravel the other's gaze, trying to understand. Dean leans forwards minutely as Cas' eyes dart down to Dean's lips.

The doors to the auditorium open and Charlie comes in, her red hair everywhere, headphones wrapped around her neck. "Hey, guys!" She stops a few feet from the stage and looks at Cas and in Dean in mild confusion, but doesn't comment. "Where are the other two?"

"Gabriel will be here soon. His class just ended." Cas pulls his eyes away from Dean's face and looks at Charlie, a small smile on his face.

Dean can only manage a nod. There must be something totally off about him right now if he's trying weird stuff already. Weird stuff…

And on cue, Jo trots down the steps. "Damnit, Winchester. Do you know how hard this place was to find?" She throws her bags into one of the seats in the front row. "And why'd you tell me to come to this anyways. I don't have any freaky dreams."

Dean runs a hand down his face. "No, but moral support. And this was your idea. The least you could do is be here. Study or something."

The doors open again, and a short man with brown hair grins and slides down the rail to the stage. "Hello, sassy Cassie!" And Dean likes him instantly. Even if he is short. He hops on to the stage with little difficulty and wraps his arm around his cousin's shoulder. "Is this the guy who stole your idea?" Gabriel leans forward to peer at Dean from his cousin's side.

"He did not steal it. He simply said it first." Castiel moves his eyes from Gabriel to Dean and fixes him with that stare again. Dean finds himself immediately pulled into that blue gaze and he doesn't even notice the silence that's settled over the group. Even though the moon is a crazy bastard, Dean is stoked that he has found the blues.

Charlie clears her throat and Dean snaps his attention to her. She takes a step back and gives him a weird look. "You doing okay?" Dean nods, his throat suddenly dry and his heart racing. Jo is looking at him with a knowing smirk. _She knows_.

Dean hops off of the stage and lands rather wobbly. "Yeah, yeah, let's talk about this club, guys. Uhm, I'm thinking that Cas, here, will be the co-president. And..."

"You have no idea where you're going with this, do you?" Jo asks as she sits on one of the armrests between the seats.

"And more than that," Gabriel looks at his cousin. "Since when did you let someone else call you Cas?"

Dean turns and looks at Castiel who is staring at his lap. "It is not of import."

"If you don't want me to call you Cas, just let me know."

"He would have let you know by now." Gabriel's face is of pure mirth.

Castiel looks up and meets Dean's eyes. Charlie watches intensely as they stare at each other. And she swears that they had just met each other Monday, now it being Thursday. She blinks.

"He wants his manly man meat stick pole, no homo tho." Jo whispers to Charli. Charlie who becomes instantly aware of the person next to her. Charlie who turns as red as her hair. Charli who freezes and barely manages a nod.

Gabriel looks around at all of them. "Well, Cassie, I'm really glad you dragged me to this."

* * *

_A/N: Alright, everybody. This is the next chapter. I do hoped you liked it. If you did, please leave me a review. Hopefully, there will be actual club interactions in the next chapter. Also, ideas for Dean's dreams are really hard, so...if you want weird stuff in dreams, lemme know and I'll write it. -E_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So I just reread the previous chapter...and there's a line in there that I didn't write. My friend did. Yeah, it was the final line that Jo has when she whispers to Charlie. The words were different when I wrote them, but basically the connotation was the same, so I can't be too upset. So I'm leaving it there. Yep. Thank you for your reviews (you know who you are) expect pie and vinyl from me as a gift. Also, no Sabriel in this one. Sorry...I already mentioned Jess… -Pyxie xx_

* * *

Castiel shoots up in bed and looks around his walls to make sure that he's actually inside of his dorm room and not...well, where he had just been. He pats himself down to make sure that he actually exists and lies back. His eyes scrutinise the ceiling in a fashion not unlike contemplating murder.

He can't fall asleep again, and looking at the clock, it would be a waste of time to not do anything with his wakefulness. As quietly as possible, he pulls on a pair of slippers, grabs his bag, and leaves his dorm room without waking his roommate. He heaves a sigh of relief when he makes it into the hallway without incident. The common room is empty so he plops down at the bar at the window and makes himself comfortable.

The sky is still dark, but small tendrils of grey are seeping over the horizon. Castiel pulls out his physics book and starts to decode the thirteenth chapter. Not because his class is on the thirteenth chapter, but because reading about physics calms his nerves. And after lucid dreams, his nerves need calming.

* * *

Three new people have made appearances at the Lucid Dreaming Club since its formation two weeks ago. Dean seems to have lucid dreams about three to four times a week, each one having to do with the Moon and Sun or some other natural object yelling at him. Quite unlike Castiel's dreams.

The other lucid dreams have to do mostly with flying. Or, rather, more often, the attempt at flying. Very rarely have people made the attempt to manipulate the world around them. It seems that there are too often extraneous factors in which people are unable to have full control themselves and the world around them in their dreams.

"What about you, Castiel? What are you dreams like?" Charlie is sitting in one of the auditorium chairs, sucking on a latte, and watching Castiel with curious eyes. Every meeting that they've ever had, she tries to get him to tell one of his dreams, and each time, he responds with a polite 'no'.

But this time, he wants to talk about it. He wants to get it off of his chest. No longer does he want to simply be an observer. For the first time, he wants to tell the entirety of his dream. So he recounts in the form of a story.

* * *

Everywhere there is darkness and everywhere there is light and everywhere does not exist. Castiel stands in the middle of this nothingness, grasping on to a single nothingness within this nothingness. But he feels something in his hand. Something with length and depth and weight and it tethers him in the emptiness in which he finds himself.

_A dream._ And once he has that realisation achieved, he manipulates everything to be exactly the way he wants it to be. A slice of sanctity. Blue skies, warm weather, green grass, and a perfectly pruned garden.

Wings sprout from his back. Black as the abyss and as wide as a backdrop. Terrifying and threatening. And yet, ethereal and beautiful. Soft as cashmere and durable as steel. And upon closer inspection, the black on his wings is not from their natural hues. Instead, they are charred. And no matter how hard he tries to fix it, burned they remain. Instead he sends them into being incorporeal in his already incorporeal world.

He changes everything again, and he recreates a library of marble and granite with cavernous ceilings and stained glass windows. It's clean and the sound of flipping pages and high heels against the marble is comforting. And there he remained for the duration of his dream. Or at least, for as long as he could have.

Like the ending of all of his lucid dream, the world violently tilts and he falls. The door to library opens, and he is ejected outwards. He lands in a pit of fire when he wakes up.

* * *

Dean is staring at Castiel in an entirely new light. "You have full control. How...how do you do that?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose it just comes to me."

Dean sighs and looks up at the lighting that hangs over the stage. He starts to get the feeling that if he could control his dreams completely, then they wouldn't be such a problem, but this-whatever he's experiencing-is not comfortable, it's not normal, and it's not conducive to his existence. Fine, lucid dreaming is pretty cool, but if it's partial lucidity, there's a certain quality of discomfort throughout the enitre dream that he wishes that he could get passed. Get passed it like how Castiel gets passed it.

"Well, aren't you lucky. You should hear some of Dean's earlier dreams." Jo laughs, clearly finding some amount of amusement in Dean's distaste of his dreams.

And Castiel understands. "He doesn't have to tell me if he doesn't feel comfortable."

Jo shrugs. "Well, suit yourself. I won't force him into it."

The three new members, Garth, Sarah, and Tessa, have had their fair share of lucid dreams. The occurrence of their dreams is nowhere near as frequent as Dean's or Castiel's but, for them, even having had just a couple is exciting. Flight seems to be a common theme throughout the club. Even Castiel has found himself fond of the sensation of flight. The weightlessness and the feeling of being relieved from gravity even momentarily is such a liberation.

And like that, the hour is over and everyone filters out. Castiel can't figure out why, but he finds himself lingering back in the auditorium as Charlie and Jo leave together and as Tessa and Garth and Sarah climb the stairs to the exit in the back of the auditorium. Gabriel doesn't say anything as he leaves, only sends Castiel a lewd wink and a smirk.

As the door closes behind his cousin, Castiel becomes hyperaware of the fact that left in the auditorium, it's just him and Dean. The air becomes stuffy, his lungs starts to contract, his heart beats overtime. And he can't discern why.

He turns to say something to Dean. But his words catch in his throat. Sitting, legs spread, on the stage is Dean, his green eyes staring up at the ceiling. Castiel can't see his expression from his angle, but he can tell that there's some amount of stress in Dean's face.

"I'm in way over my head, man." Dean mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Castiel. "I wasn't thinking clearly when I made this club. Really I just wanted to know that I wasn't alone with this whole weird dream shit, y'know."

Castiel manages a nod, but when he remains quiet, Dean looks down at him and raises his eyebrows expectantly. "Of course you know, this club thing was your idea too. I just figured you'd talk more about it."

Again, another strained nod. Dean sighs and looks back up at the ceiling. And Castiel yearns for that gaze to be directed at him again. He speaks against his will.

"I feel that my dreams of lucidity aren't quite as exciting or as enjoyable to listen to as yours, Dean." And there's that gaze again. Castiel has Dean's full attention, and suddenly he knows why his body had started having strange reactions to being alone with Dean. "My dreams are only exciting at the end. But it's true that I have full control."

"And I'm thinking that you should try experimenting with that." Castiel's eyes must have widened in shock, because Dean is backtracking. "Not that you have to, I just figured that it'd be pretty cool to see what you could do. And if you could hold conversations with people."

Castiel nods, thoughtful of this idea. "I'll try it my next lucid dream. You try it too."

Dean hops off of the stage and picks up his bag from the floor. "I will. I've always tried, but weird things start happening with the dialogue, so I just stick with the basic plan."

"Flight?"

"It's the only time I'm not afraid of the empty airways." Dean shrugs and takes a step closer to Cas.

Silences descends upon them, and they just stare at each other. Castiel finds himself drawn to the green of Dean's eyes and how the stage lights bring out the hazel around the pupils. And how each freckle is pronounce in the light. Castiel's eyes freely roam across Dean's face as if trying to archive each detail for future reference. How many freckles does Dean Winchester have on his face? A finite number, certainly. A number that Castiel is able to count to, definitely. However, will he ever be given the time to count them? Probably not.

In his visual exploration of Dean's face, Castiel has missed how Dean is leaning forward, his eyes darting between lips and eyes. And when soft, yet calloused, hands reach up to cup his cheeks, suddenly, and attention is on Dean actions. Castiel stays as still as possible as though any move will push Dean away.

"Cas, I was thinking...that maybe I should ask your permission first." Dean's voice is soft. The spectre of his words ghosts over Castiel's lips and he finds himself nodding.

And slowly, the minute distance between them is crossed, and lips touch, tentative and gentle. After barely a few seconds, Dean pulls away, takes a step back and looks over Cas' face. A grin breaks out over that perfect face.

"Alright. Well...I will…" Dean starts back towards the stairs and runs into the auditorium chairs and stumbles back. He laughs. "I'll see you soon. Later. Words." He turns to start walking up the stairs, seems to think better of it, drops his bag, and walks back to Castiel.

Castiel opens his mouth to say something, but all words are smothered by Dean's lips over his, demanding and desperate. Dean's fingers card through Castiel's hair as he delves deep passed lips and teeth. Cas' hands cling to the back of Dean's jacket to hold him right where he is this time.

And everything makes sense.

* * *

_A/N: First off, I'm so sorry that this has taken so long for me to update...midterms are coming up and I'm...dying. Who wants to take my place? Anyways, it happened! Whoo! And I needed Tessa in this story because she's so underrated in the show and I needed more chicks in the club. A certain somebody is going to appear soon, just to let you know. As always, I always love reviews; they motivate me to write more and faster! -Pyxie xx_


	4. Chapter 4

"I told you to find the blues, not to make out with them." Instead of sounding pissed, the Moon is tired and if he had a head, he would be shaking it. "That was quite the unexpected turn of events."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." Dean has chosen to lying on his back on a large lilypad in the middle of a sea of books. He isn't sure why, but there's something absolutely comforting about lying on what should be impossible. He raises a hand to the sky and expands his fingers. The sky changes for the sunny blue that he wanted it to be, to a full starry sky.

The Moon shrinks and floats down to Dean. "Why are you doing this, raspberry compass? How have you learned?"

"It was a suggestion." Dean holds his hands up to grab the Moon. It's cool and stony in his hands and the sensation gives Dean a shock of empowerment. He's holding the Moon and he can _feel_ the Moon.

The Moon shakes his entirety in what should have resembled a head shake, but instead resembled an Moon-earthquake. "It's the Blues. He likes you. And I know you dig him deep, tea bag."

"What? I shouldn't dig people deep, that's kind of morbid." Dean lets the Moon go and instead decides to turn his sea of books into an actual ocean, bioluminescent in its glow and reflective of the cosmos above. "I'm not really into the whole idea of burying someone."

"Your sarcasm goes unappreciated by many, Mr. Anderson." The Moon's voice is deep and weary. And Dean realises that there's much that he could be learning from the Moon about his weird dreams and his sleeping problems and his feels for Castiel.

"Everyone loves my sarcasm; I'm adorable." Dean winks at the Moon. Promptly after, his expression goes serious. "Tell me, Luna, what's up with my dreams?"

Silence. Dean turns his eyes away from the cosmos and looks at Luna. Its eyes are large and scared and totally out of character.

After an awkward amount of time, it speaks again. "You are experiencing dreams as you should experience them. A reality without being corporeal. An existence without the consequences. And answers to unasked questions. For the primordial existence of your personal omega. To define your altruism with vague borders of the perception of borderline morality."

Dean blinks. This is still his brain, right? So how did this come out of him? He opens his mouth to speak, but the stars rain down from the sky in beautiful dewdrops. A mini Sol is created out of the multitude of stars and floats right in front of Dean's face.

"Hello, my love. It is time for you to urinate."

Dean's eyes shoot open and he stares at his wall. And then realises, that god damn, he really has to pee. On his way out of his room, he glances at his clock. 6:12. Not too bad, all things considered. He'd be up in an hour anyways.

* * *

Dean sits down in his mechanical engineering class and pulls out his notebook. A girl sits next to him, pretty, smart, sarcastic, and definitely a burger short of a happy meal. She looks at his notes and shakes her head.

"Your notes are so messy. How can you stand to look at them again?" She opens her notebook to reveal her perfect type-like handwriting.

"Effie, no one has handwriting like you. Sorry I'm not perfect."

"I like that you aren't perfect. You're way more fascinating this way." She hesitates as though she's going to say more. Her grey eyes flicker over Dean's face as he waits for her to speak. "Are you…" She trails off and shakes her head. "Never mind."

"No, that's not allowed." This is one of Dean's biggest pet peeves; people starting sentences after intense scrutiny and then not following through. "You have to tell me now."

Effie blinks and nods at Dean. "I just wasn't sure if you're the president of the Lucid Dreaming club. But then I realised that you couldn't possibly be because you would have told me. Because we're friends and that's what friends do. Friends tell friends exciting news. Like when I told you 'bout my special lady friend. And you wouldn't forget for five weeks to tell me. Or that yesterday you kissed your co-president."

Dean pales and looks at Effie in a whole new light. Because, honestly, could she have gotten anymore passive-aggressive? The answer is yes. The entire speech could have been communicated through sticky notes throughout class. When did his kiss with Cas become common knowledge?

Effie seems to notice the discomfort that she's placed on Dean and her expression softens. "I'm sorry. I won't tell anyone. I just happened to be walking into the auditorium yesterday and there you were. And then I saw the sign that said 'Lucid Dreaming' and that your name was under it. And there was this super hot redhead told me that you're the president that Castiel is your co-president." She shuts her mouth and then fiddles around with her pencil.

Like many OCD scientifically-minded people, Effie starts to ramble and then forget what she was talking about initially and then shuts down. She starts shaking her head and clenching and unclenching her fists. "I'm sorry. I just...want to join the club…"

"Okay." Dean manages. He had met Effie back in his Freshman year during his first Calculus class, so he knows her well. But at the same time, he had never really told her that he digs not only the chicks, but the dudes as well. And she was handling that piece of news rather well.

She stops playing with her pencil and looks at Dean with wide, hopeful eyes. "Thank you." She forces out, but it's genuine and he knows that. Upon meeting her, he knew that bravioso behaviour covered up her anxiety of apologies and of gratitude. But she's kind and understanding and straight-forward.

Dean nods. "Don't worry about it. Besides, one of the ladies in the club left, so we need you to balance everything out again."

"I'm fine with being your balance, Mr. Winchester." Effie ducks her head and holds her coffee mug close to her chest as their professor walks in.

* * *

Since the kiss, Castiel hasn't been able to think of much more. Of course, he knows that he should be worrying about his Analytics of Space Travel exam, but he just can't get up the motivation to study. All he can think about is the softness of Dean's lips.

He shakes his head just once. When had his blood been replaced by tree sap? Perhaps it had been quite a long time since his relationship with Balthazar. And maybe it'd been even longer since Meg. And maybe the lack of having an intimate partner is starting to do things to him that he would otherwise never do.

But Dean is different and Castiel can tell that. He didn't need to have weird dreams to tell him that. And he didn't need to know Dean's dreams explicitly to know that he feels similarly.

The anomalous situation of premonitious dreams should be an extraneous factor chalked up to coincidence. But how often do dreams predict events yet to come? And how frequently are they correct? Certainly not as often as they are with Dean and Castiel.

Castiel stares out of the window. Night has fallen and stars have begun to make the attempt of shining their light upon the earth in a feeble attempt to infiltrate the luminous pollution of urban buildings and of light. They remain as pinpricks of possibly dead light, the remnants of ghosts in the void.

It's time for sleep, he knows. But the thought of sleep at this moment seems impossible. Maybe he would just wait until daylight.

* * *

Gabriel sits on the roof of the Astronomy building. Not because he's a future astronomer, or even in the sciences. It's just the tallest building on campus and it's got easy access to the roof. For all of his grandeur, Gabriel is sky-obsessed. He's got the name of an angel after all.

Unlike his cousin, Gabriel doesn't get weird dreams. In all honesty, he doesn't dream at all. He closes his eyes and six hours later, they open again and he's well-rested. Doesn't get more boring than that.

But it's when he's awake that he gets to dreaming. When the city is asleep, and the lights are down, and no one knows where to find him. This is when he can let his mind wander to Kali and to his own personal alternate universes. The manipulation of his daydreams is easy and it's expected. Everything works out exactly as he wants. Everything is where he wants it to be and he can do everything he wants to do.

Yet, as the nights grow colder on the roof of the Astronomy building, a sweater comes to be not enough for the brisk evenings. And soon, Gabriel knows that lying out on the top of this building will be impossible once the winter hits. One more month until December. One more month until the snow begins its descent over New York.

Before the Lucid Dreaming club, before Dean Winchester, before being dragged in by his cousin, dreaming had never really mattered to Gabriel. Whether it happened or not, it had been fine. But now, he's bothered by the fact that there's nothing in there while he rests his head. Nothing to go on. No epiphanies that strike him randomly while he sleeps. Just darkness. Death training. That's what his sleep feels like. Minimal brain activity and basic bodily functions. And that's all.

Gabriel pulls his sweater tighter around himself and makes his mind wander. Away from New York, away from everybody he knows and everywhere he's been. He wants to go far away where no one knows his name. Somewhere that isn't Boston. Because damn that song. He closes his eyes and lets his thoughts drift.

* * *

_A/N: I am a despicable human being. How dare I call myself a writer. Oh man. I'm so sorry everybody. Since declaring my major, I've just been so swamped with chem and math classes. I write this when I have the time. And when I'm stressed. I also don't really know what happens in Cas' dreams… Also, this may not seem like it, but it's a pretty important chapter. Also, sorry, no smooching in this one. Next one, I promise, will have a bit more than just one single kiss… -Pyxie xx_


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